My Journey to You

by amber2011

Mercedes moves to a new town with her daughter Abby for a fresh start after a tragedy befalls her family in Lima. She rents an apartment from Sam in an old house he's renovating. She and Sam slowly fumble toward a relationship

13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

SUMMARY: Sam and Mercedes meet with an attorney and Mercedes shops for a wedding dress. Cooper realizes his need for relationships. Carter and Rory have an argument.

WARNING: Cursing. Violence. Explicit sex scenes.

NOTES: Thank you so much for all of your reviews!

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REVELATIONS

Carter Tinsley sat down in his usual spot in McGinty's Pub; it was the third stool from the left, not far from the cash register. He placed his briefcase on the empty stool next to him and loosened his tie. His day at the office had been more brutal than usual, a major snafu that was caused by the idiots in project operations, but somehow, some way, he knew his division would be blamed, so now he was sucking it up and cleaning up a mess he didn't make, all for that pension he would be getting in a few years.

He looked around the bar; it was mostly empty, except for a few sad, hookers that were past their prime milling around the old juke box, drinking beers, and trying to look sexy in their mini skirts and thigh-high boots. Carter shook his head and looked over at Rory who was busy chatting with an elderly gentleman in a corner booth, who had a hearing aid, and a thick Irish accent, a tweed flatcap sat atop his silver-haired head and a red plaid scarf was tied around his neck. They were talking about football, which Carter insisted on calling soccer, no matter how many times Rory corrected him and said that's not how it was referred to outside the U.S. Finally, Rory told the man that he had to get back to serving customers and the man nodded, lifting his pint of ale as if saluting Rory in Irish solidarity.

"Nice chat, lad!" The man shouted.

Rory nodded in response and hurried over to the bar, the blue Oxford shirt he wore was un-tucked and wrinkled and his jeans were splattered with white paint.

"The usual?" he asked Carter.

"Yes, but make two of them."

"Rough day?"

"If this were the nineties, I'd want to go postal," Carter said, attempting at humor. Rory looked at him, confused by his joke.

"Postal?"

"I get it. You're young and Irish. Just bring my drinks."

Rory laughed and got his drinks. Carter twisted the many gold rings he wore on his fingers. He loved flash and glitter even though it didn't bode well in corporate America. When he returned with the drinks, Carter's eyes lit up at the sight of two double scotches on the rocks with a twist; the deep copper liquid never looked so good with the ice cubes bobbing about in the whisky glass and the curled lemon twist floating in the middle of each one; he admired them for a moment, before picking up the glass and taking a drink, savoring the flavor of the lemon on the rim of the glass and the pleasant, hot, smoky, malty flavor of the scotch as it burned his lips and warmed his belly.

Soon he would be joking about the hookers and asking Rory about his new girlfriend; he just needed for the liquor to take over his senses. But Pauline's face popped in his mind. Aside from having a wretched day, that morning they had the same discussion they had had for the last two weeks. Why hadn't Karofsky sent them more information? Carter knew he was shady and figured he was on an unofficial vacation, but Pauline worried, the way she always did, and burned his eggs that morning because they were arguing about it. He drank some more scotch. Rory brought him a bowl of warm homemade tortilla chips and fresh salsa.

"On the house," he said.

"Thanks, man," Carter said, diving into the chips and salsa, "I didn't have lunch."

"So what's going on?"

"Nothing, really," Carter said, eating the chips and then taking another drink of scotch, "Hey, I haven't heard from Karofsky."

"I stopped speaking to him, so I know about as much as you do," Rory said, as he wiped down the counter, his eyes shifted away from Carter's gaze.

"Because of the money he owes you?"

"Yeah."

"Humph," Carter said, finishing the first drink and then starting on the second one, "I'd sue his ass."

"Do you want some Stobhach Gaelach?" Rory asked, wringing the damp towel around his hand in an agitated manner.

"I don't eat things I can't pronounce," Carter said, "What is it anyway?"

"Irish stew. It has lamb in it."

"Oh, well in that case, sure."

"It's my grandmother's recipe."

"Why are you giving me all this food?"

"You look like you could use it," Rory said, shrugging his shoulders, "You're going to turn down free food?"

"Free drinks are even better," Carter said.

"I'll go get the stew."

"Thanks."

Carter ate the entire bowl of chips and polished off the salsa. He was halfway through the second scotch when Rory returned with a steaming hot bowl of Irish stew.

"Here you are."

"Bring me another drink."

"Sure."

Carter looked down at the bowl of hearty stew filled with lamb, potatoes, carrots and parsley; it smelled wonderful and he took a bite, enjoying the tender meat. He wondered why Rory was plying him with food, the guy was as cheap as they come… his mind drifted to Karofsky again. He needed to contact him. Maybe he could twist Rory's arm and get him to find out where he could be, after all the two had done business together. He ate more stew and finished the second drink. Rory came back with another drink, sitting it in front of him.

"How's the stew?"

"Very good. Listen, I know you and Karofsky don't speak any more but is there anything you can tell me about where he could be? You know how important his information is to us; our granddaughter's life depends on it."

"I'm sorry I wish I could help you," Rory said, turning away from him, chewing his bottom lip, his blue eyes darted about. Carter had seen him look like that before, when Rory told his ex-girlfriend that he couldn't go to her sister's wedding. His ex-girlfriend, who was named Ginger, came to the bar one evening that summer wearing Daisy Dukes and a leopard print tube top with her bright red hair flowing down her back, and she demanded to know why he couldn't go to the wedding after he had promised to attend weeks ago and she had already sent in the RSVP; this was entertaining to Carter, Ginger chewing out Rory in front of the bar patrons, and he had the same expression he had now – shifty and nervous; he lied to Ginger and said he had to take care of his sick grandmother, but the truth was that he was cheating on her with his now current girlfriend whom Carter couldn't recall the name of, but it sounded old-fashioned, and reminded him of lace pinafores and Victrola record players. He was about to say something about all of this when Rory's new girlfriend breezed into the bar; bundled up in a green parka.

"Hey honey," she said to Rory, leaning over the counter and giving him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a bright red stamp of her lips on his face.

"Hi Agnes," he said, kissing her again, this time on her pouty lips. She wasn't as pretty as Ginger or as young, but she had a better figure. When they finished kissing, she looked over at Carter and smiled, her gray eyes shined:

"Hey, Carter how are you doing?"

"Fine, Agnes, and yourself?"

She shrugged and took off her coat, sitting beside him.

"I'm ok," she said, as she ran her hands through her mop of brown curls, "I guess you need a new PI, huh?"

"Why do I need a new PI?"

Before she could answer, Rory said:

"Agnes, I got that new brand of amaretto that you like so much, you want me to make you an amaretto sour?"

Agnes waved him away.

"Not now," she said, and looked at Carter, "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Some guy came here asking about Karofsky."

"What?" Carter said, not quite believing what he was hearing, "What guy?"

Agnes pulled a pack of cigarettes and lighter out of the pocket of her parka.

"I thought Rory told you."

Carter cut his eyes at Rory, who stood there like a kid about to be sent to the principal's office, "No, Rory didn't tell me anything."

Agnes lit a cigarette and took a drag, shaking her head at Rory she said:

"Babe, I thought you said you were going to tell him. You said Karofsky was in trouble when that guy said –"

"Damn it Agnes, shut your gob!" Rory said, slamming his fist against the counter.

"You said you would tell him!"

"I don't care who tells what," Carter said, raising his voice, "I want to know what happened. Now!"

Agnes took another puff of her cigarette.

"Everybody just calm down."

"I want to know what happened," Carter said, glaring at them, "Who came here asking about Karofsky and how does that affect me?

Rory sighed.

"Carter, a mhac, listen I was going to – "

"Don't start with that 'a mhac' shit with me," Carter said, guzzling down the rest of the scotch, "You only break that shit out when you done wrong."

"You're right and I'm sorry. Karofsky pissed me off. He owed me a lot of money like $20,000 dollars. He was being an asshole about it. Not returning calls. Then acting like I never loaned it to him."

"I know that part. What about some guy asking you about him?"

"One day this weird blond man dressed like some rich wanker comes into the pub. He orders the black stuff and starts asking questions about Karofsky. He said he was following around an innocent woman and her mute child for a client and he wanted to know who hired him, and that the FBI was after him."

"So he was the FBI?"

"No, no, he didn't say he was FBI. Just that the FBI wanted him. He never said what he was exactly, something about a security company. He had a strange way about him. I was a bit knackered that day and I was angry at Karofsky so I told him you had hired him."

"Bullshit."

"Huh?"

"You don't give up the goods without getting paid. How much did he give you?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

He kept staring at my neck and he said that necks break like twigs especially skinny Irish ones, and he was so matter of fact about it, like we were talking about football match or some shit like that then he leans away from the bar and I could see his gun."

"So he threatened you?"

Rory nodded.

"Yeah," he said and then looked at Agnes with disgust.

"Stop smoking that bloody fag in my pub!"

Agnes ground out the cigarette in the empty salsa bowl.

"You always let me smoke."

"You lost that right when you opened that fat gob of yours!"

"So what else happened?" Carter said.

"I also gave him information about some of Karofsky's business partners, and where they were located. Because he figured I would know and I did. What I didn't know about was the other stuff he was into."

"What other stuff?" Carter said, staring into the empty glass

"He told me that Karofsky was into some sick shit like child prostitution. I didn't know he had his hand in stuff like that. I knew he was helping out this homeless kid who was strung out on drugs, but he said Karofsky was pimping him out to rich married guys over in Milk and Honey, letting them rape him and everything. He filmed it and sold the videos."

"Snuff films?"

"I don't know what you call them. But it's disgusting and I had no part in that."

"Did he say what he was going to do to Karofsky?"

Rory paused then said:

"He was gone in the head and he told me that dead bodies aren't always found. So whatever he planned for Karofsky wasn't good."

"What did you tell him about me?"

"I told him why you and your wife hired him. That you wanted custody of your grand daughter."

"Did you even think he would come after me and Pauline, that our lives could be in danger?"

"No. He only wanted to know about Karofsky's business partners and the name of his client in Lima. This is bigger than you and Pauline getting information about Mercedes. I think he was taking down an operation. Something huge."

"What did you say this guy's name was?"

"I didn't. But he just called himself Cooper."

Carter held his head in his hands.

"What you just told me is scary as hell. You put our lives in danger. How could you do that? What if that psycho wanted to track us down and kill us simply because we hired Karofsky?"

"That wasn't what this was about. Besides what would he gain by killing you? I figured Mercedes probably hired him to find out who was following her; he never said this but why else would he be looking for the client? What other link would he have with her."

"I still don't like it. The way you're talking Karofsky is probably dead."

Rory said nothing. Agnes put her hand on Carter's arm.

"We don't know that for sure."

"You should've said something," Carter said to Rory, "I'm walking around thinking he was on vacation. And Mercedes probably knows everything. So our plan backfired. Now we look like the guilty party."

"If you need a new PI I know – " Agnes began to say, but Carter cut her off.

"How in hell is that going to help now? Forget it."

Rory extended his hand across the bar for Carter to shake.

"I hope we can still be friends. I'm sorry for not saying anything, but I didn't' know how to handle this. I was scared."

Carter stared at Rory's rough, pale hand, then he grabbed it and took hold of his other hand and yanked Rory across the counter, throwing him on the floor, pouncing on him he punched his face repeatedly.

"I should kill your punk ass, giving up my name like I ain't shit, and don't even think of calling the police. I know all about you, Mr. Flanagan…" Rory lay beneath him struggling and screaming. Agnes hopped on Carter's back, but he pushed her off, and continued his assault, when he couldn't feel his hands anymore, and all he saw was blood, he thought of his son Shane lying on the floor of 7-11. The crime photos were revealed during the trial. His boy was dead, nothing but a bloody heap, had his entire life ahead of him, and then some punk took it all away… Carter got off of Rory who was now pleading for his own life, and the three double scotches swam through Carter's head; he leaned against the black pole of the bar stool, his hands began to throb, and he couldn't see clearly, why couldn't he see?

"Shane!" he said.

He hadn't said his name in long time. Not out loud. Pauline would say "our son" and Carter would say "our boy" but never Shane. Because saying his name made it real and Shane Dwight Tinsley, was still alive, at any moment he would walk through their front door, joking with them about how they should take the plastic off the good furniture in the sitting room, "Nobody wants to sit on a couch that they'll slide off of," he would say and then plop down on the sofa with Abby beside him, "See baby girl, your grandparents are crazy as bedbugs" and Abby would laugh. His boy, his son, who climbed trees and flunked algebra, and sat on the roof looking at the stars and said; "the world is so big papa, so big…" Carter laid on the cold, dirty, floor of the bar and cried, saying his son's name over and over again, until his voice was gone.

---

HUMAN TOUCH

After he left Blaine's house, Cooper felt unsettled, like parts of himself were scattered about the universe and he had to be put back together again. He drove around Nashville listening to NPR and then he turned it to a classical station and got lost in Chopin's Nocturne; the sweet, melancholy music touched his heart. He thought of Blaine and his parents and summers spent on the lake where he would lock himself away in the tree house reading thick books while Blaine bonded with the other boys and put on talent shows and went canoeing. Once his Aunt June and Uncle Wilford and their cousins Eliza and Peter came to the lake with them; and one night after the kids went to bed, the adults sat out on the back porch with citronella candles burning on the picnic table and talked about whatever adults talked about when the children were asleep. Cooper always suffered from insomnia so he got up and went downstairs to get a glass of water. The kitchen window was open so he could hear his parents and Aunt June and Uncle Wilford talking.

That Blaine is just so handsome, Aunt June said, "And that voice. He'll break many girls' hearts."

"June, you know Blaine is gay," Mr. Anderson said.

"He could outgrow it."

"Blaine is fine how he is," Uncle Wilford said, "But I am surprised that he knows at such a young age."

"Eight is not that young. Besides he has a crush on the mail man," Mrs. Anderson said.

"And Cooper is – " Aunt June started to say

"What about him?" Mr. Anderson asked.

"Well, Cooper is Cooper."

The adults were silent after that. Cooper didn't know why his heart broke but it did. Then his mother said:

"He's still getting straight A's"

"Does he have any friends?" Aunt June asked.

"I think he hangs out with the fellows from chess club," Mr. Anderson said.

"Why does he stare like that? And does he ever have normal conversations?" Aunt June asked, her voice exasperated.

"We've accepted him," was all Mr. Anderson said. Mrs. Anderson asked everyone if they wanted more beer.

Uncle Wilford gave his final thought:

"At least you have Blaine."

His parents hadn't defended him; they only said that they accepted him. Blaine was the easier son to handle. He tried not to stare, he really did, but the way most people saw the world, he just didn't see it that way; he saw blueprints and floor plans and brain scans, how things worked, the parts that made the whole. While everyone else admired the view, he wondered how the view came into existence. Another composition by Chopin came on the radio; this one was Prelude in E Minor. He got lost in the music, and the hurtful memory, faded from his mind. He stopped at Target not really needing anything in particular but wanting to be distracted by rows of colorful objects.

He pushed the bright red cart through the automatic door and began his journey up and down the aisles, not seeing anything he wanted to buy. In the household section, he saw a set of copper pots and remembered that LaTonya said that she liked copper pots so he bought them. He then went to the tools section and got a small power drill for Abby; he reasoned that Sam could supervise her when she used it. Then he bought Sam and Mercedes matching blue plaid pajamas since they seemed to be dressing alike and not realizing it. He finally found something he could use, a couple of black leather journals. When he got to the checkout line, a short, dark haired woman wearing an ugly gold Santa Claus sweater attempted to flirt with him:

"Are you Swedish?" she asked him, smiling up at him, her eyes roaming over his body.

"Danish and Dutch." Cooper said.

"Oh. I asked because your hair reminds me of a Swedish ski instructor. You know, bright white blond."

"I don't ski. May I ask why you're talking to me?"

The woman turned red.

"Can't a woman make conversation anymore?"

"Yes, but you aren't one of them."

She looked as though she were about cry; but instead she scowled at him and turned around. A few customers who heard the exchange gave him dirty looks; he stared back at them and they looked away, embarrassed at trying to shame him for his behavior. The dark haired woman who tried to chat with him was attractive but he had no desire to talk to her and didn't feel he should have to. After he paid for his purchases, he wheeled everything out to the parking lot and loaded up his car. Then he found himself driving to LaTonya's neighborhood about twenty minutes outside of Nashville. Another unannounced visit that he couldn't explain, but he needed to see her. When he pulled up to her pale yellow ranch style house with black shutters, the outside light switched on, he got out of the car and opened the trunk, retrieving the box of copper pots; and he quickly climbed the cement stairs to her front door and rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps and then her sweet, melodic voice called out:

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Cooper."

Next the multiple locks clicked open and she opened the front door, gazing at him in surprise. Her dark black skin looked luminous in the light and her long peach terrycloth robe hugged her hourglass hips; her curly, kinky hair was pulled up in a bun that sat atop her head like a crown. Her big, dark eyes looked worried.

"Cooper, are you ok? Why are you here?"

"Here," he said, thrusting the box into her arms, "I bought you some copper pots. I remember you said you liked them."

"I do like copper pots but I don't remember –"

"You told me right before I left for Berlin."

She looked down at the box and then up at him again; he could see that she was thinking of what she should say next; she smiled and put the box on the floor.

"This is nice surprise and very thoughtful of you. Please come in."

She grabbed his hand, leading him into the house where she took him to the den. She motioned for him to sit down on the floral patterned loveseat and took his coat, flinging it onto the blue couch where she sat across from him.

"Have I done something?"

"Latonya, no, please I wanted to see how you are doing."

"You're supposed to be in Kentucky, I made hotel reservations and – "

He held up his hand.

"Yes, I know and I cancelled them. I had to get away from there."

"Did something happen with Sam and Mercedes?"

"No, but, telling them about Karofsky went about as well as I could expect."

Cooper noticed a thick hardcover book lying on the couch beside her and he saw that it was the Peterkin Papers by Lucretia P. Hale; he laughed, pointing to the book, he said:

"You're probably the only person I know who even knows about Lucretia Hale."

"I needed to read something silly and light. I know it's for kids but I like those stories. "

"You don't have to explain it to me. I loved those stories as a child. I still do."

"They got me through difficult times," Latonya said, fingering the gold locket around her neck, "Are you hungry? I just made a pot of chili."

"No, I – you're looking well."

"Thank you, so do you."

"You know, since I'm here, I can install those security cameras"

"You don't have to do that. Besides you look exhausted."

"I am tired, but I'm worried about your safety. You need to move."

Latonya shook her head.

"I'm fixing up the guest bedroom for you. There's no way I'm letting you drive when you look like walking death."

"I assure you I'm fine."

"And I assure you that you're not."

Cooper loosened his tie and took off his suit jacket. He felt relaxed.

"I'll be right back," she said, "I'm going to put the pots away. Thank you again for the gift."

"You're welcome," he said smiling at her.

She came back to the den about ten minutes later carrying a tray with two bowls of chili, two glasses filled with ice and two cans of ginger ale.

"I said I wasn't hungry," Cooper said looking at the food.

"You will be," LaTonya said, as she set the tray down on the coffee table, "I bet you haven't eaten in hours."

"I admit that it's been awhile but I did eat at Sam and Mercedes' place; they made brunch."

"That was at least 5 hours ago," LaTonya said

"Your estimation isn't far off."

Cooper's stomach rumbled and he picked up the hot bowl of chili and began eating it; it was delicious and spicy; he devoured the entire bowl while she was only halfway through her bowl, and then he drank the entire can of ginger ale, afterwards he let out a satisfying belch and LaTonya laughed. Cooper was a little embarrassed by his breach of etiquette, but with LaTonya everything was ok. She took away the pretense.

"That was impressive," she said, "There's more chili and ginger ale in the kitchen. Help yourself if you're still hungry. I also made an apple pie."

"Are you trying to kill me woman? You'll have to wheel me out of here if I eat anymore. Your chili is very good."

"Oh, live a little. You don't have to be good all of the time. Besides, I should be the one worried about extra calories, not you," she said, patting her hip.

Cooper rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"You have no cause for worry. I think I will have some more chili and maybe even a slice of apple pie."

"Now you're talking," she said opening her can of ginger ale and pouring it into her glass, "I knew you would come around."

Cooper patted her head as he walked to the kitchen to get seconds. She recently had her kitchen renovated and he admired her new stainless steel refrigerator and stove; the mauve marble countertops were nice too. He lifted the lid on the big black pot of chili on the stove and refilled his bowl and then he cut himself a slice of the apple pie that sat on the counter and got another can of ginger ale out of the fridge and went back to the den where LaTonya was reading her book and eating.

"Am I that boring?" Cooper said, joking with her as he sat down on the couch beside her, instead of going back to the loveseat.

"Boring and Cooper should never be in the same sentence," she said, looking up from her book.

"Read it out loud," Cooper said, "I could use a laugh."

"Really?"

"Yes. Besides, I so hate television."

"I hardly watch mine."

"I know."

"Ok, here goes," she said and began reading aloud the next story in the Peterkin Papers called About Elizabeth Eliza's Piano.

"Elizabeth Eliza had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of the postmaster's daughter. They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and the carters brought it in, and went away. After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but they found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the middle of the room, standing close against the window. How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play upon it?"

While Cooper ate his chili, he listened to the story, carrying him away from all the turmoil he felt inside, and all that mattered was the sound of LaTonya's voice and the words that ran together on the page. He was transported to another time when he could stay locked in his bedroom, imagining things in his head; creating a world that didn't have rules. When the story ended, he and LaTonya couldn't stop laughing; it was such a silly, funny story and they both agreed that the family could never survive without the Lady From Philadelphia. By then they were finished eating, and Cooper felt like a stuffed goose, he got up and gathered the dishes to load into the dishwasher even though she said he didn't have to do it.

"I want to do it," he said and as he put everything on the tray.

"Thank you Cooper."

When he attempted to step over her feet he accidently stepped on her foot.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Did I – "

"Oh please, don't start," she said smiling up at him, "It's more durable then you think, she said, tapping her prosthetic below-the-knee limb against the hard wood floor, her robe raised a bit, revealing the artificial calf and foot, that was very life-like in appearance due to the black skin toned cosmetic cover.

"I know it's expensive, and I didn't want to damage it. My shoes are heavy."

"Trust me it's been through worse."

"Would you like some tea?"

"I'd love some."

Cooper went to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. He brewed two cups of Earl Grey tea and took them back to the den. This time when he sat next to LaTonya, it was a little closer than before.

"Thank you for making the tea," she said taking the mug from him.

"You're very welcome. Thank you for dinner."

A comfortable silence that felt like old slippers fell upon them as they sipped their tea. Cooper wrapped himself in it and before he even realized it, he said:

"I visited Blaine."

"How is he doing?"

"Blaine is Blaine," he said.

"I bet he was glad to see you."

"Why?"

"Because you never visit."

"I'm busy… and we don't have much in common."

"You love each other and that's enough."

Cooper wasn't sure what to say to that, so he said nothing, after a few moments, he asked her:

"Why do people talk?"

LaTonya stared at him, trying to understand the question.

"What do you mean?"

"Strangers talk to each other in public. For no reason."

LaTonya took a sip of tea.

"Oh, I get it. You don't understand small talk."

"I suppose that's it."

"Sometimes people like to chit chat. And you can learn something you haven't before."

"If I want to learn, I do research."

"No, I mean learning by accident."

"I don't like it."

"We're talking now and you don't seem to mind."

"This is different."

"How?"

"We know each other. I don't have to… I don't know. I don't have to pretend I care. I hate pretending. The world pretends too much."

"It does but not everyone is pretending. Some people are sincere."

"A woman in Target said I looked like a Swedish ski instructor."

LaTonya laughed.

"That's original."

"It was ridiculous. She didn't know me."

"Think of it like this. If we never talked to people we didn't know, we couldn't make friends or connections."

"I suppose. But I never understood the need for friends."

LaTonya reached for his hand and squeezed it, a simple gesture that calmed him. He then said to her:

"People think I'm rude. I think it's an inaccurate assessment."

"You are rude."

"I'm honest."

"That too."

"How am I rude? I like getting to the point."

"There are other ways of getting to the point."

"Hmmm," was all he said.

Latonya set the mug on the coffee table.

"Come with me, I have something to show you."

He followed her out of the den down the hall to her dining room which she told him that she never used. She turned on the light and the room was empty except for a black baby grand piano sitting in the middle of the floor and a black leather loveseat pushed against the wall.

"It's a beautiful piano," Cooper said walking over to it, "When did you get it?"

"My great aunt left it to me in her will."

"May I?" he asked, sitting down on the piano bench.

"Yes, it's just been tuned."

She sat on the love seat and Cooper began to play Chopin's nocturne Op. 9, No. 1 in B flat minor. He loved playing the piano, and did so as often as time allowed, when he was a little boy he dreamed of becoming a concert pianist, but that all changed. He was quite a good player and to hone his skills, he took lessons now and then. When he finished that nocturne he played another and then another, his fingers caressing the keys, his heart breaking and mending all at once, each note said what he wanted to say but without words, sometimes words fucked things up, you didn't always need words to say how you felt and this music was his broken letter to the world. LaTonya sat listening to him play, swaying her head, closing her eyes. Finally, he couldn't play any more, he could no longer see the keys because of the tears in his eyes, and he didn't blink them away. He sat there out of breath, shoulders slumped, exhausted. LaTonya watched him for a moment and got up from the loveseat and sat beside him on the piano bench. He leaned against her.

"You knew I had that in me," he whispered.

"Yes."

"LaTonya…" he said, not sure of what was to come next.

"It's never complete. Don't worry about getting it all out now, let it come out as you need to. Don't force it."

"I won't."

"You always have something to say, so keep on saying it, nobody is stopping you."

"I've seen too many people suffer and I suffered with them."

"I know. I see it."

"It doesn't scare you?"

She shook her head.

"No. If it did I wouldn't be here. What scares me is that you forget you're human. No matter how much you separate yourself, you're still human Cooper."

He nodded. No longer wanting to talk and only wanting to sleep and dream.

"Come on," she said nudging him, "Let's go to bed."

ooo

The next day Cooper woke up at 6:00 in the morning. For a second he forgot that he was in LaTonya's guest room and had to remind himself where he was when he saw the mauve colored blinds and the white comforter edged in lace that covered him. He felt well rested and decided to go for a run; since LaTonya was an early riser too, he thought it would be a good idea to ask her to come. He pulled back the covers, got out of bed, and went across the hall, and knocked on her bedroom door.

"Come in," she said.

He opened the door and found her sitting on her bed wearing a gray sweatshirt and shorts, her residual limb or "stump" as she sometimes called it was exposed, and it did not have the prosthetic limb attached to it, which was lying on the bed; he noticed it was a different one from last night, the foot of the limb was a Flex-Run blade which she liked to use for running. Her stump had scars where the skin flaps were sewn over the area where the bottom half of her leg was amputated.

"I was going to ask you to go for a run. I see you're already getting ready."

She smiled at him.

"That I am. Just let me get this attached and I'll meet you at the front door in a few minutes."

"Ok, I need to change anyway."

"All right."

He closed her bedroom door and went to the guest bathroom where he splashed his face with cold water and brushed his teeth before changing into his black compression tights and hoodie. When he got to the front door, LaTonya was waiting for him wearing florescent purple compression tights, and a black fitted long sleeve crew neck shirt that accentuated the swell of her full, pert breasts; the Flex-Run blade was attached to her right leg while a purple sneaker was on the other.

"Come on," she said, opening the door, "I want to see the sunrise."

He followed her out the door into the chilly morning air. They stood in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing at the golden orange light filling the sky, and the blazing orb of the sun slowly ascending in the horizon. Cooper held LaTonya's hand, needing contact and touch, because he was filled with something he wanted to share but couldn't describe.

"This is why people connect," she said, looking down at their joined hands.

Cooper nodded and thought of Sam and Mercedes and Abby, could they be his friends? People drifted in and out of his life and he always preferred it that way, but now something was shifting, was he able to connect like that? As if hearing his thoughts, LaTonya said:

"You can do it."

She then let go of his hand and began running down the sidewalk, looking as graceful as a gazelle in the early morning sunshine.

"You're not giving the amputee a head start are you?" She called out over her shoulder, laughing, "I don't need charity!"

Cooper laughed and ran after her.

---

YOU WOULDN'T BREAK YOUR MAMA'S HEART, WOULD YOU?

"You're not going to the Justice of the Peace, I won't hear of it," Carol said to Sam over the phone, "You and Mercedes are having a wedding."

"Mama please, calm down. We want to get married right away and planning a wedding takes time. Besides, Mercedes isn't big on fancy weddings and neither am I. Remember my wedding to Quinn?"

"I'm not saying you need a harpist, doves, and a gospel choir, all I'm saying is that we love Mercedes and we want to be there to witness you two become husband and wife. It can be something small. Why not have a ceremony here at the house? It will only be the immediate family and a few close friends."

Sam leaned back on the couch, rubbing his eyes, he was getting a headache.

"Mama, you know nothing can stay small with the Hummels."

"You're breaking my heart with this Justice of the Peace nonsense."

"Listen, I'll talk to Mercedes about it," Sam said, "And maybe we can work something out, ok?"

"Samuel Emmanuel Hummel, is that a promise?"

"Yes, it's a promise."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mama, bye."

Sam ended the call and tossed the phone aside. It had been a week since they left Kentucky and came back to Bethel Rock. Sam pretty much lived in Mercedes' apartment upstairs now that they were engaged, and after spending so much time together in Kentucky, it didn't seem natural to go on living apart. Every morning he woke up with her in his arms, and that's what got him through each day. His cats George and Gracie still stayed in his apartment, but he saw them everyday because he went down there to do business and have meetings with crew members he hired to flip houses with him. He and Mercedes and Abby had also been looking at houses; he was serious about moving, so far they hadn't found anything, but he knew they would eventually. He loved seeing that emerald and diamond ring sparkling on Mercedes' dainty brown hand, telling the world that she belonged to him, it filled him up with pride that such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman agreed to be his wife. They were planning to go to the Justice of the Peace next weekend, however, now that his mother claimed to be "heartbroken" he wondered if Mercedes would agree to a small ceremony at the Hummel home in Dusk Hollow.

He sighed and got up from the couch and went into the kitchen to check on dinner. Mercedes had to work late, so he decided to make her favorite meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes for dinner. Abby was in her room doing her homework. As he opened the oven door, his nose was flooded with the aroma of beef, Worcestershire sauce, thyme, and pepper, he took the foil covered pan out of the oven and peeled back the foil, inspecting the meatloaf which was brown and juicy; satisfied with how it looked, he covered it up again and left it on the stove. The mashed potatoes were already done. He only had to make the salad and rolls. Abby came into the kitchen, and walked over to the stove, pointing to the meatloaf.

"It's done, Sugar plum, he said, giving her a side hug, "Can you do me a favor and get the can of dinner rolls out of the fridge? After I open them you can put them on the cookie sheet.

Abby nodded and did as he asked. She was very helpful in the kitchen and he enjoyed spending time with her alone like this. She got the can of rolls out of the fridge and opened the bottom cupboard and got the cookie sheet, setting it on the table. Sam took the rolls from her and opened them. While she put the rolls on the cookie sheet, he chopped the tomatoes and cucumbers for the tossed salad, glancing at the microwave clock, he figured that Mercedes should be home soon.

"What do you think of me and your mother getting married at my parents' house?"

Abby placed a roll on the cookie sheet and thought for a moment, then she smiled at him, nodding her head. Sam was surprised at her response; for some reason, he thought she might not like the idea.

"I see, he said, "Well, let's see what your mother says. It won't be a lot of people. Anyway, it might be fun and you and Lucy can be flower girls."

Abby put another roll on the sheet and clapped her hands, becoming excited about being a flower girl with Lucy. Sam forgot how much she liked Lucy and even though the two girls hadn't seen each other since Christmas, they texted each other and shared photos on Instagram. Sam smiled down at her.

"Since you're that happy about it, I think your mother will probably agree to the wedding, but let's not get our hopes up yet," he said, patting her head, "You can put those rolls in the oven, I preheated it."

Sam combined the ingredients for a balsamic vinaigrette and Abby mixed the dressing in the Emulstir, until it was well blended. By the time everything was ready, Mercedes was walking through the front door, loaded down with her briefcase, book bag, and purse. Sam met her at the door, taking her belongings from her, and helping her out of her snow-covered coat. He hated to see the dark circles under her eyes and the slight slump in her shoulders, going back to work hadn't been easy for Mercedes, and there was much she had to catch up on; he really wanted her to stay at home full time, he liked the idea of being the one taking care of her and Abby, as old fashioned as that was, but he knew how much she loved teaching so he kept those thoughts to himself. He gave her a hello kiss and said:

"Dinner is ready. Go and get changed while we set the table."

Mercedes hugged him.

"Thanks, baby, I'll only be a minute."

They kissed again and Mercedes went into the bedroom to change. He and Abby set the table and since Sam wanted to make everything feel special, he put a white tablecloth on the table, and sat a glass vase in the middle of the table that was filled with yellow winter jasmine and red river lilies that he picked up at the supermarket while grocery shopping earlier that day.

Abby poured everyone a glass of freshly brewed sweet tea with a sprig of mint in each glass. When Mercedes came into the kitchen dressed in her "after work" clothes; black jeans and a V-neck cashmere peach sweater that looked lovely against her clear mahogany skin, a little red lipstick and blush was on her lips and cheeks, and her hair was fluffed out; Sam wanted nothing more than to take her back to the bedroom and make love to her, but of course that had to wait. So he pulled out her chair for her and said:

"You look beautiful."

Mercedes blushed, smiling at him and kissing his cheek as she sat down. They all held hands and Sam said grace:

"Lord we thank you for all our abundance and blessings. Amen."

Not much was said during dinner. Sam could see how tired Mercedes was so he didn't try to engage her in lengthy conversation; she kept saying how wonderful everything tasted and thanking him profusely for making such a good dinner for her. He held her hand and kissed it.

"No need for thanks. I like taking care of you and Abby. I'm happy to do it."

After dinner they had apple crisp and vanilla ice cream for dessert, then they retired to the living room and Sam and Mercedes snuggled on the couch while Abby built another addition to her dollhouse, her tools were spread out on the floor, and she sat cross-legged, quietly hammering the wooden pieces together. Then Sam remembered that he needed to oil Abby's scalp so he told her to go get her hair supplies. She sighed and put away her tools and went to fetch the supplies from the bathroom cabinet. Mercedes was half-asleep beside him on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Sam, I can do her hair tonight," She murmured.

"You can barely keep your eyes open."

She yawned.

"I know but you've done so much already."

"You can thank me later," he whispered in her ear, anticipating what would unfold between them after the house was quiet and Abby was tucked away in bed. Abby returned with a jar of coconut oil, a comb, and a plastic bag filled with hair clips, and sat on a cushion on the floor between Sam's long legs. He undid her two Afro puffs and gently combed through her hair, dividing it into sections with hair clips. They had washed it the night before so now he wanted to oil her scalp. As he parted one section of hair with the comb, he said:

"Mama wants us to have a wedding at our house in Dusk Hollow. She hates that we're going to the Justice of the Peace."

Mercedes stretched her arms.

"Is that so?"

Sam heard the annoyance in her voice and tried to gloss over the request.

"Baby, it won't be a big shindig, just the immediate family and a few friends. Nothing major; and I thought it would be nice if Abby and Lucy are flower girls, maybe Birdie too but she's kind of young." He said all of this casually as if they were talking about going to the movies on Saturday afternoon, or deciding where to have lunch, "And Abby likes the idea of being a flower girl."

Mercedes sighed.

"I don't mean to be a party pooper but whose going to plan all of this? The last time my relatives got involved with wedding planning; Shane and I got fed up and flew to Vegas. I'm not saying this is the same thing, but with all that happened with my in-laws, and now we're meeting with the attorney… it's just too much. The Justice of the Peace was the easiest route. I don't need frills."

Sam dipped his finger into the jar of coconut oil and rubbed it onto Abby's scalp.

"I know. But what if Stacey and my mother did all of the planning? We wouldn't have to do a thing? Neither one of us is fussy. Our only requirement would be to show up."

"Then Aunt Josephine would be mad that she wasn't part of the planning, but I don't care if she gets mad, so that's not an issue."

"What's going on with your Aunt Josephine?"

"She keeps calling and talking about Puck. Since she doesn't know you, she doesn't think you're right for me. But I can handle her. Her heart is in the right place but I don't know where her head is."

"I think she needs to meet me that would help."

"True."

"What do you think about the others doing the planning?"

Mercedes was quiet and then she touched Abby's shoulder:

"Do you really want to be a flower girl with Lucy?"

Abby turned her head and nodded, smiling at her mother. Mercedes looked at Sam:

"Well, if they're willing to do everything, and I do mean everything, and all I have to do is put on my dress and walk down the aisle… then, but wait, who can walk me down the aisle?"

Sam stopped combing Abby's hair.

"I hadn't thought of that. What were you going to do before you and Shane eloped?"

"My Uncle Walter was going to walk me down the aisle but he's had a few strokes and not in very good health. Besides the only family member I want at the wedding is Aunt Josephine."

"I have an idea, it's non-traditional, but I think it works for us."

"What's that?"

"I want us to walk down the aisle together. Look, you don't need anybody giving you away. We've already given ourselves to each other. We're spending the rest of our lives together, so we should walk down that aisle together too. So what do you say?"

Mercedes leaned over and kissed him.

"I think that's a wonderful idea. I love you."

"I love you too. So, are we good with a wedding?"

"Yes, Sam, we're good."

After he finished oiling Abby's scalp, he carefully French braided her hair, and then he and Mercedes tucked her into bed and said a prayer with her. Her sleepwalking hadn't occurred in a long time and for that Sam was grateful. He often wanted to ask her about why she was so attached to the magnifying glass that Cooper gave her but decided against it, for some reason, he wanted her to tell them herself, and he was positive that she would in time. He and Mercedes made sure she had plenty of night lights, and glowing star stickers were on her bedroom ceiling. After they said a prayer, he sang her the lullaby and soon she was asleep. Becoming a father to Abby touched him in ways in never thought possible, and he was anxious to adopt other children, after he and Mercedes were married. They stood there watching her sleep and then they crept out of the room and went to their bedroom, and brushed their teeth and changed into their pajamas, before crawling into bed together. A sudden wave of fatigue washed over Sam and his eyelids began to fall, Mercedes found her way to his open arms and he held her tight, kissing the top of her head. Since they were too exhausted to do anything more than stroke and caress each other, and share long kisses, Sam was content to hold her to his heart until they both fell asleep.

---

PROTECT THOSE YOU LOVE

After meeting with a family law attorney, named Shannon Bieste, Mercedes got a restraining order against the Tinsleys that was delivered to them in person by a process server based in Ohio; the process server also sent to Mercedes an affidavit that was proof that the documents had been delivered. When Mercedes and Sam met with Shannon again, she advised them that they should look into having Sam adopt Abby. They sat in Shannon's home office in Copperhill, it was a rainy Saturday morning, and Abby was spending the weekend with Lucy. Shannon gave them each a cup of coffee and freshly baked blueberry scones that her wife, Emma, had just made that morning. Her office was pleasant with soft lavender walls that were covered with pictures of her and Emma and their two-month old son, named Elijah. Mercedes thought that Shannon had a quiet, mature beauty that most people would miss, it was how she carried herself with confidence and dignity and the caring way she listened to Sam and Mercedes when they first came to her with their crisis. The tall, broad-shouldered woman, had kind blue eyes, a sweet smile, and often wore cowboy boots and plaid shirts. Mercedes took note of how Shannon, reached for her hand, when she cried about everything that happened and nodded sympathetically when she spoke of her anger. Cooper couldn't have recommended a better attorney, who was quickly becoming a friend.

"Do you really think I should adopt Abby?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I do," Shannon said, leaning forward on her desk, her hands folded in front of her, "I believe it will help in case the Tinsleys decide to sue for custody. I doubt they will in light of recent events, but it shows your commitment to Abby and Mercedes."

"I love Abby. I really do, but I don't want her to lose Shane's name," Sam said, sipping his coffee, "I've never wanted to replace her father," he turned to Mercedes, who sat there, taking it all in, and wondering what to do,

"So what do you think, baby?"

"I honestly don't know. She loves you Sam and you're a wonderful father… I don't know how she will feel with a name change, but if it will give us added protection against Shane's parents, maybe you should."

"Why don't you two take time to think it all over, ok? I just think we should do all we can to deter Tinsleys from taking any action, they had a sick man follow you around and posed a real threat to your safety, knowing Abby's delicate mental state, and completely disregarded your privacy. I think they're harmful and manipulative people."

Mercedes took Sam's hand and squeezed it.

"I want to think about it."

"Ok."

"I have a suggestion," Shannon said.

"What's that?" Mercedes asked.

"Maybe you can hyphenate the name, so she won't lose her father's name, if that's your main concern."

Just then a knock came on the office door.

"Come in," Shannon said.

Emma came in, holding Elijah in her arms; he was wrapped in a yellow patchwork blanket; her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a pale blue robe and slippers.

"Sweetheart, your next appointment will be here in twenty minutes," she said to Shannon, and then smiled at Sam and Mercedes.

"Hello you two," she said.

"Hi Emma," Mercedes said, "Your scones are delicious."

"Thank you, it's an old family recipe."

"They're awesome," Sam said as he took another bite of his scone, "I may have to steal that recipe."

"Honey, thanks for letting me know about my appointment," Shannon said.

"Do you guys want more coffee?" Emma asked.

"No, we're fine," Mercedes said, "Thanks, Emma."

Emma nodded and left the office, closing the door behind her.

"I can't thank you enough for how much you've helped us," Mercedes said, "We'll let you know about the adoption."

"You're welcome. I can empathize with having in-laws from hell. Emma and I had a horrible time when we first got together; her parents said I was an old dyke preying on their young daughter which was the furthest from the truth. We fell in love like any other couple."

"Did they ever change their minds?"

"No, they didn't. After much fighting and turmoil, we did what was best for us and cut them from our lives; it wasn't easy, Emma is fragile, but the hurt they caused with their hatred was inexcusable."

"I can see how much you love each other," Mercedes said looking at the pictures of their family on her office wall, "I'm glad you found peace."

Shannon smiled and nodded.

"It's been a long road, but it was worth it. I don't know what I would do without Emma."

Sam held Mercedes' hand and kissed it.

"I feel the exact same way about her."

"I know you do," Shannon said, "And that's why I want to help you as much as I can."

They chatted for a while longer and then they went left. As they were driving home, Mercedes said:

"I want to hold off on asking Abby about the adoption. After what happened when we said we were getting married, I think we should ease her into it."

Sam nodded as he switched lanes to take the next exit to Dusk Hollow.

"I agree. I want to do what's best for her."

"Yes I know, and I hope this all works out."

"It will," Sam said, glancing at her, "You know I think I should spend some time with your Aunt Josephine."

Mercedes didn't want to discuss Aunt Josephine, but she knew the conversation was coming eventually so she said:

"I'll have her come down a few days before the wedding."

"I was thinking maybe a little longer than that."

"How long?"

"A couple of weeks. I can stay in the apartment downstairs and she can stay upstairs with you and Abby. She's all you have and I hate to see you two at odds with each other."

"Sam, things weren't great between us even before I left Lima. She complained a lot about the choices I made, and when I decided to move, that was the nail in the coffin because I took Abby away from her, now she's pissed that I'm getting married to you."

"I know you two have issues but I want to try to at least have a civil relationship with her and she loves Abby."

Mercedes sighed and looked over at him.

"Everyday you remind me why I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Sam smiled and grabbed her hand.

"Same here."

"I'll arrange for her to come spend a week with us."

"Good. And by the time she's experienced the Sam Hummel charm, she won't have any objection to me marrying you."

"Sam, sweetie, I say this with love, don't get your hopes up. Aunt Josephine likes very few people and she's a tough cookie. Charm doesn't work with her."

"I'm still optimistic."

"I admire that."

"What do you want to do today?"

"Well, we need to go grocery shopping. I have to pick up a prescription. You need a haircut, she said, reaching over and running her hands through his floppy blond hair, though she didn't mind the length.

Sam laughed.

"I meant something fun. We have an entire child free weekend."

"You're right, so what did you have in mind?"

"We haven't been on enough dates, so I was thinking we could go to that new AMC dine-in movie theater that has leather recliners and assigned seating and then maybe see my friend perform at a club downtown."

"And what friend would this be?"

"You haven't met him. His name is Lyle. He sings country and folk music. You'll like him."

"A club? I never pegged you as a club type."

"Well, I used to go now and then before I was married. It's not like a dance club or anything. Just a chill place to listen to live music and drink a few beers, really mellow."

"Ok, that sounds like fun."

"Good, now we can do the grown-up boring stuff like errands, and then see when the next movie starts."

Mercedes was looking forward to going on these dates with Sam, but when he mentioned the small club, a tiny twinge of fear crept up inside her, after he told her about the supermarket incident in Kentucky, she began to think of the impact of being in an interracial relationship. So far they had no problems with the exception of what happened with him and Abby and she figured they would be ok, but clubs could be tricky. Sometimes places like that could be "territorial" and she knew that Sam would protect her if anybody tried anything, but she also wanted to avoid any problems.

Sam patted her knee.

"Schätzchen? Are you ok? You're so quiet all of a sudden."

She wasn't sure if she should say anything because she hated to be "that person" and despite Aunt Josephine's gruff exterior, she always saw the good in people and passed this onto Mercedes. But Sam was going to be her husband, and they already shared everything, so she said:

"Is this club diverse?"

"Don't worry, it's not a man cave or anything."

"I'm not talking about that. Is it racially diverse?"

Sam pulled into the parking lot of Whole Foods, parked the SUV near the entrance, and turned off the engine.

"Thinking about Kentucky?" he asked her, turning to look into her eyes.

"Yeah. I don't think about race much, but after what happened with you and Abby, it's been crossing my mind more."

"Mine too. But listen, the club is a liberal dive with a hodgepodge of people, so no worries there."

"We need a plan in case something does happen."

"What do you mean?"

"Like if somebody gives us a hard time for being together or calls us names or picks a fight."

"Mercedes, it's 2015, not 1962."

"I know Sam, but people can still be racist."

"First of all, I would never let anybody harm or disrespect you, that's not how I operate."

"I get that and – "

"Let me finish."

"Ok."

"Secondly, if somebody does something ignorant, I'm defending you. And if it becomes physical, I want you to run and get help. If Abby is with us, that's all the more reason for you to run for safety."

"What about you?"

"I can handle myself… my Lord, I can't believe we're talking about this."

"Me either."

"I'm not clueless Mercedes. I know that there will be some people who won't like us being together, but I always reasoned they were very few and far between. In a way, I still hold that belief."

"I get it. I just want to be realistic about everything."

"I understand."

Sam pulled her into a hug.

"We'll be ok. And I would never take you anywhere if I thought you wouldn't be safe."

"I know you wouldn't. But I want us to pick our battles wisely."

"How so?"

"Not everything warrants a response."

"In my book it does. I always defend those that I love."

Mercedes said nothing and tightened her arms around him. He was a stubborn, loving man, and she accepted that, along with his unwillingness to shed his suit of armor.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too."

---

DRUGSTORE DRAMA

Later that afternoon they went to the AMC Cinema Suites movie theater that opened up downtown. Mercedes loved the plush, red leather recliners, and the seat-side service to order your food. She and Sam got burgers and fries and shared a big chocolate shake while watching Sicario, and sometimes Sam would lean over and steal a kiss, and that made her feel giddy like a teenager; she wasn't sure why, there was something so innocent and sweet about it. Afterwards, they walked out of the theater, their arms wrapped around each other, talking about how much they liked the gritty action movie, and what made it so riveting. On the way home, they stopped off at the drugstore to pick up her prescription, and get Sam's medicated lotion, but ended up getting much more. Mercedes had a two for one coupon for the lotion, and this amused him.

"You're very frugal," he said.

She picked up a couple of bottles of his medicated lotion off the shelf and put them in the cart.

"It's always better to live below your means. I don't believe in struggle. Just smart spending."

Sam got a box of watermelon Sour Patch Kids and Mercedes thought that was disgusting.

"How can you eat those things?"

"They're good."

"They're gross."

"You're out of pads," he said walking over to the feminine products aisle, with Mercedes trailing behind him, pushing the cart. He picked up a box of Always Infinity Overnight pads and threw them into the cart.

"I can't believe you remembered what kind of pads I use," she said.

"We live together."

"I know but – "

"I'm always paying attention when it comes to you."

Mercedes stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"Thank you."

He also got her a bottle of Summer's Eve Feminine Wash and some KY Yours + Mine Warming Lubricant for Him & Her and put those items in the cart too. Mercedes looked at the lubricant and picked it up.

"We've never used this before."

"I think we should try it," Sam said, lowering his voice, "Like tonight." His breath felt hot in her ear and he stood so close to her that she smelled his musk deodorant and peppermint gum. They had made love very early that morning and suddenly Mercedes was aroused by the thought. She was about to step away from him, when Sam held her wrist.

"I know that look. Just wait until we get home." Mercedes nodded as Sam's green eyes turned predatory as he surveyed her body that was covered up by her long, scarlet red down coat. He kissed her cheek and they were about to go to the check out line when Mercedes decided go to the digestive products aisle and got Sam some Metamucil for his constipation and a box of Ducolax stool softener pills. On Sam's "slow" mornings, she was very glad they had an extra bathroom in the apartment for her and Abby to use. When he saw her put the stuff into the cart, he said:

"We know too much about each other's bodily functions."

Mercedes laughed and agreed with him.

"Yeah, you're right. But you know you should never strain."

"Mercedes…"

"It's true, sitting on the toilet on hours end trying to push it out doesn't help. Hell, you could read an entire Jane Austen novel for as long as you take sometimes."

Instead of being embarrassed by her comment, Sam looked at her and laughed, wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head.

"Damn, I love you, girl," he said.

"Of course you do," Mercedes said, gazing up at him, "Who else would put up with that?"

They left that aisle and went to the personal grooming and foot care section, where she also picked up a pair of toenail clippers because they lost theirs and Sam's toenails were turning into ugly talons. She shook the clippers in front of his face.

"I'm clipping those claws of yours."

He smiled and took the clippers from her.

"Aw, baby, they're not that bad."

"Wanna bet?" she said, raising her eyebrows and challenging him and Sam only laughed and put his arm around her as he wheeled them further down the aisle, and she also got him a pack of corn and callus remover cushion pads for his feet, which often took a beating because he was on his feet all day and he usually work heavy work boots when he was flipping a house. Sam then wheeled them into the next aisle which had vitamins and pain killers and Mercedes got Abby a bottle of Flintstones Mulitvitamin Gummies, a bottle of Excederin Migraine for Sam and Advil for herself and Sam picked up a heating pad for Mercedes' lower back pain and a tube of Boil Ease Pain Relieving ointment for the boils that flared up on her behind sometimes. The first time it happened, she was beyond embarrassed and didn't want Sam to see the ugly, pus-filled bumps on her butt cheeks, and refused to let him see her undress or help her.

Finally he got fed-up with her reluctance and said to her in that no-nonsense way of his: "You've seen me trying to take a shit while sitting on the toilet playing Angry Birds on my phone, whatever it is you're hiding, won't matter." After that she let down her guard, and let him see her problem, he pressed a hot water bottle to her behind, to draw the infection to the surface, and when it came to a head and the pus drained out, he wasn't grossed out, instead he assisted her with washing the infected areas, and applying the ointment and bandages, and with all of his patience and kindness, during the ordeal, Mercedes never felt more grateful to have him in her life, boils often made her sick and she had a fever as well, and Sam was there through it all.

When they passed the candy aisle again, Mercedes broke down and got a bag of Mary Janes and then they finally made their way to the check out line. They were laughing and joking so much that they didn't notice the middle aged, gentleman behind them with thinning brown hair and rimless glasses, he stared at them until Mercedes finally noticed and she smiled at him, hoping he was only staring because of their crazy banter and for no other reason. The man smiled back.

"How long have you been married?" he asked them.

Sam held Mercedes' hand and said proudly:

"We're engaged."

"I see. Congratulations on your engagement."

"Thank you," Mercedes said.

"You two remind me of me and my wife the way you laugh and talk to each other. It's nice to see a love like yours. People think love is red roses and candlelight, and we forget about mundane stuff like going to the drugstore, that's love too. I heard you laughing a few aisles over about Boil Ease and I had to laugh because that's reality."

"How long have you and your wife been married?" Sam asked him, hugging Mercedes to his side.

The man thought for a moment and said:

"We were married 30 years until she died last year," he said, his voice cracking, "I think about her everyday. When I heard you two talking, it made me laugh and smile and remember the good times with her," a few tears ran down his cheeks, "Sorry, I don't mean to burden you, I only meant to thank you of reminding me what a wonderful woman I had."

Without hesitation, Mercedes left Sam's embrace and hugged the man, and said to him, "Sometimes the little things life shows you gets you through. I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm glad we helped you relive a good memory."

The man held onto her and she let him cry.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, pulling away from her after a few moments and wiping his eyes, "I'm sorry for –"

"Don't be sorry. I lost my husband. I get what you're saying."

"You're blessed to find someone else."

She nodded and reached for Sam's hand, holding it again.

"I am blessed, but so are you. You had a wonderful marriage."

"I know. But I've felt hesitant about dating, how did you…"

"I like to think it was God and providence," Mercedes said, "And you should only date unless you're ready, the only timeline you need to work with is your own. Grieve and live at your own pace, don't let anybody impose anything on you."

The man shook their hands.

"Thank you so much for listening to an old guy ramble. I appreciate it."

"It's ok," Sam said and gave him a hug too, "If you ever want to talk or have coffee, give us a call."

The man was surprised at the offer of friendship.

"That's very kind of you," he said, "I may take you up on that. Let me give you my number."

They exchanged numbers and paid for their purchases and left the drugstore. It was late afternoon and the sun was setting as they walked through the parking lot, loaded down with bags. When they got in the car, they hugged and kissed each other, and nothing was said between them, but Mercedes needed to hold Sam and she felt he needed to hold her. Maybe it was because they knew one day they would have to face the other one dying and that was scary, even though she had been through it once already, it cut her heart to think of going through it again.

---

IMMORTAL LOVE

When they got home, they left the drugstore bags on the living room floor, and urgently began undressing one another. Sam's hands trembled as he unbuttoned her blouse, and after one stubborn button got stuck, he grew frustrated, and yanked the blouse open, tossing it on the floor. Mercedes pulled his sweater over his chest, marveling at his chiseled physique. He had less trouble with her bra, freeing her breasts from the black satin and lace cups that confined them. She unzipped his pants and pushed his boxers and jeans down his long legs and she knelt before him, fondling his beautiful, erect cock in her small hands, and wanting to take him in her mouth, he allowed her to kiss it a few times, before he patted her head.

"Not yet."

He helped her to her feet and unzipped her black pants, and dragged them down her legs along with her black satin panties that were now damp with her arousal. He sat on the couch, spreading his pale legs wide, his cock and balls bobbing between them and positioned Mercedes on his lap and she guided him inside her and began riding him, staring into his tear-filled eyes. She was desperate, wanting him to fill her completely, give her all that he had; She wanted to put every breath and heartbeat he possessed inside a locked glass cage so he was immortal. If she kept moving, gyrating her wide hips, taking him all inside her then somehow she could stop his death… foolish, irrational thinking but her mind was cluttered with images of the man at the drugstore crying over his wife's grave. No, not yet, damn it Sam, you can't die yet… and he clung to her, sweaty and flushed, he held her close as she rode him; he cried as he held her, then he pushed her onto her back and slammed into her, it was so rough and raw that she was blinded by pain at first that gave way to pleasure.

"More," he said, as he drove himself into her, he was coming apart, splintering off into fragments. He too, was keeping her alive, immune to death and all that came with it. Mercedes never felt Sam like this before; it was frightening and wonderful all at once. She squeezed him tight within her and Sam responded with more urgent pounding, her legs wound around his narrow waist, their bodies gliding against each other; just stay here with me in this moment, she wanted to say, don't go anywhere, stay here buried within me, we can keep each other alive. Sam almost became violent, with his lovemaking, just pushing himself into her further, he sucked and bit her neck, breaking the skin and drawing a very faint trickle of blood, she dug her nails into his back, holding onto him and then they came and Sam's seed flooded out of him and flowed inside her. Both of them shaking and trembling, holding onto each other, trying to calm themselves down. Mercedes never felt so full. He pulled out and she wrapped her arms around him, loving his scent of sweat, sex, and musk, he raised up and looked down at her, touching her face, then leaning down and kissing her, then he squeezed and suckled her breasts and she moaned at the feel of his mouth and tongue on her sensitive, erect nipples, he then lay his head on her heart, and she stroked his head, trying to breathe, to gather her thoughts, but everything had come apart.

ooo

Mercedes woke up with Sam asleep on top of her; a pool of his drool had formed between the valley of her breasts where his blond head rested. She felt sore and she had to go to the bathroom. She patted Sam's back.

"Baby, wake up. I have to use the toilet."

He slowly raised his head, his eyes dazed.

"Toilet?"

"I have to pee."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know, but get up. I really have to go."

Sam yawned and removed himself from his position on top of her and she went to the bathroom, very much aware of how her ass shook with every careful step she took across the hardwood floor and she felt Sam's eyes on her. She went into the bathroom, shutting the door, and she sat on the toilet and relived herself, feeling Sam's come slide out of her. She wiped her private area, flushed the toilet, and while washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror, her neck was covered in passion marks and her body had bruises where Sam squeezed her tight. She took some toilet paper and wiped away Sam's drool on her chest. To the unknowing outsider, she looked like she had been roughed up, she was sore and it hurt her to walk, Sam had never taken her like that before, but she needed that urgency, that something that made them alive. When she went back to the living room, Sam was sitting up, rubbing his eyes, his cock was semi-hard, and when he saw her looked concerned. She went to him and sat on his lap and he put his arms around her.

"You're walking funny is it because –"

"Yes, you've never been that rough before."

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok," she said laying her head on his shoulder, "You're bruised too." She then pointed to the bruises on his neck, chest and hips.

"But I can walk straight," he said, kissing her passion marked neck.

"Don't rub it in."

"I am sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you. I just needed…"

"I know. I needed it too."

He picked her up and carried her to the master bathroom inside their bedroom and drew a bath for them, putting in a few drops of lavender oil. Then he carefully eased her into the warm, sweet smelling water before getting in too, and not wanting to be apart from him, she immediately went to his side of the tub and he gathered her in his arms, kissing her lips.

"I'm so sorry Mercedes, please forgive me."

"Sam you didn't do it on purpose, and I never stopped you, it felt good, I wanted to keep going and going. I needed you filling me."

They were quiet after that, washing each other's bodies and soaking in the water until it was almost cold. Then they got out of the tub and dried each other off and put lotion on each other's skin, being extra careful because some of their skin was bruised. Afterwards they went into the bedroom and became spiritually intimate, holding each other, as they gazed at one another, letting their emotions guide them. As they lay on the bed, breathing together, chest and bellies pressed together, they gave each other silent praise for the physical and emotional fulfillment they provided to one another. Sam had Mercedes lay back and he kissed each part of her soft, naked body, giving God abundant gratitude for having created the perfect woman for him, he paid close attention to the purple bruises, kissing each mark.

These are here because I can't let you die

Mercedes understood as he covered her with sweet kisses, his lips gentle and reverent of her every limb, laid out before him, he gave her tender strokes and caresses and cupped her sex, squeezing it.

I'll never hurt you here again.

Mercedes hugged him.

We got what we needed.

She urged him onto his back and treated him with the same loving kindness, massaging his chest, kissing his bruised hips and neck, holding his cock and stroking it with care, kissing it before letting go and giving love to the rest of his muscular body, she turned him over and squeezed the firm globes of his buttocks and kissed the crescent shaped scratches and bruises on his back that she left behind when she clung to him.

You're beautiful.

Sam shook his head at her silent declaration.

It's only because I love you. You make me beautiful.

They fell asleep, holding each other, the quiet darkness surrounding them, wrapped in love and gratitude.

---

IF AT FIRST YOU DON'T SUCCEED…

Sam decided to make pancakes on Sunday morning. He didn't bother waking Mercedes up and he let her sleep. She needed the extra rest because her job had her running from 6 AM to 6 PM every day and this worried Sam; she needed to sleep more. As he stirred the pancake batter, he thought of what transpired between them the previous evening, with the violent lovemaking and clinging to each other like that. In his heart, he knew they couldn't suddenly become immortal no matter how hard they tried, but they were both ruled by their hearts and tried anyway. He poured the batter onto the hot griddle and looked at the microwave clock. It was 9:30. He decided to get a haircut after breakfast, then maybe they could go to a used book store he knew Mercedes would love, maybe grab a bite to eat at the nearby diner and then that evening they could go see his friend Lyle perform at the Stone Balloon downtown.

Abby wasn't due back home until late Monday evening since it was a holiday and school was closed. Finn called earlier that morning and said that Abby was having a blast with Lucy and said to thank Mercedes again for letting her spend a three-day weekend with them. Sam was happy to hear that Abby was having such a good time. He always thought Lucy was a sweet little girl, but somewhat awkward, and being around Abby seemed to put her at ease. Abby sent random text messages to him and Mercedes detailing their activities and she sent photos too. They had an American Girl tea party with gluten free organic chocolate cupcakes and green tea, then Rachel took them for a spa day at Sugar & Spice Salon, and Abby took a picture of her neon pink manicured nails and sent it to them. Mercedes said that the expression on Abby's face in the photo was the little girl she used to know before Shane died. Sam stacked the pancakes on a plate and made another batch. When they were done, he fried a pack of bacon and made a pot of cheesy grits. As he was about to brew a pot of coffee, his phone rang. It was his urologist, Dr. Marvin.

"Hello Dr. Marvin"

"Hi Sam, I'm sorry to call you on a Sunday morning, but my schedule wouldn't allow for an earlier time."

"That's ok, listen can we talk about maybe doing another sperm retrieval procedure?"

"You mean you want to try it again?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"I read this article about a guy with the same condition that I have and he took herbs to increase his sperm production and then he tried the procedure again and it worked."

"I think I know the article you're referring to, but Sam after what happened before I don't know are you up for it?"

"I was pretty upset that it didn't work but, Dr. Marvin, I just want to try again and I've been working with an herbalist."

"Really? Who?"

"Dr. Eve Moore – she's in the medical complex on Hillshire Avenue."

"Ah, yes, I'm familiar with Eve. She does good work. What herbs are you taking?"

"American Ginseng Root, Maca Root, Saw Palmetto, Cordyceps mushroom, Schisandra fruit and seed, and Tribulus aerial parts and fruit," Sam said.

"That's a lot."

"I know but those were the herbs that the man in the article took, and well, I thought I would give it a try."

"Aren't you and Quinn divorced?"

"Yes, but I'm engaged to someone else, and I, Dr. Marvin, I just want to try."

"Ok, come by my office on Wednesday and we can discuss it further."

"Thank you Dr. Marvin."

"You're welcome, Sam."

After he hung up, Sam went downstairs to his apartment and got his herbal supplements out and took his first dose for the day. He was keeping this a secret from Mercedes because he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, but he felt ready to try. He had been taking the supplements for six weeks. After his appointment with Dr. Marvin on Wednesday, he would tell her what was going on if Dr. Marvin thought he could try again once more.

---

ONE VOICE

The day went by quickly after they had breakfast. Sam got his haircut and they browsed around the used bookshop where Mercedes bought some old Judy Blume books and afterwards they grabbed lunch at the diner and went to Lowe's for some tools that Sam needed and Mercedes bought a dozen cans of spray paint for a craft project that her students were doing for a class assignment. By the time they got home, they only had time for a quick meal and shower, and then they changed and headed out the door. Mercedes wore a black, floral print, pleated, knee-length skirt, red sweater and black leather boots, her hair was fluffed out in an impressive Afro and she wore a large red silk rose hairpin in her hair. Sam took one look at her and whistled.

"Baby, you look gorgeous," he said, taking her by the hand as he opened the front door and lead them out of the apartment.

"You don't look too shabby yourself," she said, her eyes roaming over his black dress pants, royal blue shirt and shiny black Cole Haan shoes.

As they walked down the stairs, Sam said over his shoulder:

"You're not still worried are you?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm actually looking forward to the performance."

"You'll love Lyle. He's a great guy."

There was a light snowfall so Sam was very careful on the roads as they drove to the club. When they got there the parking lot was packed so he had to park on a side street, which bothered him, but Mercedes didn't seem to mind. He put a protective arm around her as the walked along the sidewalk to the club, it was a little windy, and he grimaced when the cold air hit his face.

"Old Man Winter is fierce this year," Mercedes said through clenched teeth. Sam rubbed her shoulders.

"We're only a half a block away," he said.

When he opened the door to The Stone Balloon he was greeted with the familiar smell of beer, coffee, and tobacco. The walls were Technicolor stripes of red, blue, green and yellow. All of the small round tables were bright red and the booths were a deep forest green and had cushioned vinyl seats. Autographed pictures of various artists who performed there were on the walls and the small stage at the front was the focal point of the room and was surrounded by burnt orange velvet curtains held back with gold ropes. Most of the tables were taken, but Sam found a booth not too far from the stage, as he and Mercedes walked hand in hand toward the booth, a petite woman behind the bar, who was dressed in black with Pixie cut pink-hair, a diamond stud nose ring, and had big blue eyes like a Precious Moments doll yelled out:

"Sam!"

Sam looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. He waved and then proceeded to the booth where he got Mercedes situated and helped her remove her coat. The club had a hodgepodge of people of all ethnicities and ages, some were dressed up, others dressed down, and then still some fell in between like he and Mercedes.

"Baby, do you want anything to drink?"

"A Moscow Mule," she said as she smoothed out her skirt and sat down.

"You feel ok?" he asked.

Mercedes smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

"Sam, I'm fine. This place is really funky. I like it."

He breathed a sigh of relief

"Great. I'll go get our drinks."

"Ok."

When he reached the bar, the pink-haired woman came from behind the bar, grinning at him, and before he could say anything, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.

"I haven't seen your ass in ages! How the hell have you been?"

"I've been doing ok, Star, how about you?"

"I'm doing good."

"That's great."

"I miss hanging out with you," she said and she hugged him again, her hand traveling down to his rear end, and she was about to grab his butt cheek, but Sam removed her skinny arms from around his waist and backed away from her.

"I'm here with my fiancé," he said pointing to Mercedes, who was busy talking to a woman with a shaved head and a dragon tattoo on her neck.

"That black woman?"

"Yes, is there a problem?" Sam said glaring at her. Star turned red.

"No, not at all. She's very pretty."

"I know."

"Hey, I didn't realize you two were together, I saw you walk in – "

"And you saw us holding hands."

Star looked down at the floor, and then up at Sam. He and Star used to hook up; it was never anything serious, she was fun, sexy, and uncomplicated. She liked smoking weed and watching Japanese anime. He stopped calling because he grew bored with her. He needed substance. He never claimed any commitment and neither did she. They hooked up, had a few laughs, maybe ate take-out from the Thai place downtown and that was it. It lasted for about a month. But he knew her well enough to know that she knew damn well that Mercedes was with him and she disregarded it.

"I'm sorry," she said, "What would you like to drink?"

"A Moscow Mule and a Screwdriver," he said.

"Coming right up."

She made the drinks. He paid for them and took them back to the booth. The woman with the shaved head was gone and Mercedes was texting on her phone. She gave him a bright smile when she saw him.

"Hi honey."

He sat down next to her and slid her drink in front of her.

"Here you go."

"Thank you. I was just talking to the most interesting woman. She's from Ohio and played bass for Natalie Merchant, isn't that awesome?"

Sam nodded and sipped his Screwdriver.

"Yeah it is. Was she hitting on you?"

"No, but she recognized me from when I used to sing gigs in high school. She used to play at a pub that I sang at, but I don't remember her."

"That's cool."

"Was that pink-haired girl a friend of yours?"

Sam was honest.

"We used to date a few years ago."

"Oh, well she looks friendly."

"You could say that."

"When does Lyle start?"

Sam checked his watch.

"In about ten minutes."

"You seem upset," she said as she picked up her drink and took a sip, "Did something happen at the bar?"

"No, my Screwdriver is a little weak."

"Sam…"

"Alright, I just remembered where I used to be and I'm glad I'm not in that place any more."

Mercedes looked at him and kissed his cheek.

"I'm happy."

"I'm happy too."

They smiled at each other and kissed, blocking out the world around them, and Sam got lost in that kiss, pulling her toward him, letting his hands run up and down her back, tasting the ginger beer and vodka from her Moscow Mule, she smelled like vanilla sugar, and he wanted to touch her skin, and it drove him crazy to know that underneath her skirt and sweater was beautiful, soft, skin like silk, he felt her full bosom press against his hard chest, and they kept kissing, nothing was left around them, nothing else mattered except their kiss in that moment, in a noisy club booth, tasting liquor, breathing in stale smoke, but the kiss trumped everything else. A burst of applause erupted and they pulled apart, the spell between them broken. An older man in his sixties was now on stage. He wore a black rhinestone jacket, white shirt and black jeans, he was skinny as a rail, and squinted behind his glasses, his brown hair was teased rather high on his head and it looked like a cloud. He carried a guitar and he sat down on the stool on stage and spoke into the microphone.

"How y'all doing tonight?"

Everyone was clapping and cheering.

"That's Lyle!" Sam shouted and clapped louder than anyone, and he kissed Mercedes again, "You're going to love this!"

Once the crowd calmed down, Lyle began to sing:

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one

Sam bopped his head to the music and sang along as quietly as he could. He knew every word and note to this song, and what made it even better was that Mercedes, was beside him, her eyes shining just as bright as his. He could tell she was enjoying the music and this pleased him to no end. When the song was over the crowd gave an enthusiastic response and Lyle launched into his next song:

Down in the valley, sing halleu

Down in the valley, sing halleu

He played a guitar made of Indian rosewood, the way he strummed away at he strings was almost magical to Sam and the sound of his voice was haunting and ethereal. Then he played Shoo Lie Loo

Just found the kitchen

Shoo Lie loo

With a handful of biscuits

Shoo Lie Loo

After that he sang Adventures of Isabel

Isabel met an enormous bear
Isabel, Isabel, she didn't care
bear was hungry, bear was ravenous

At Lyle's urging, the crowd clapped and sang along, Sam hadn't felt this happy in a long time, and he leaned over and hugged Mercedes, giving her a kiss.

"This is wonderful!" she shouted over the din and noise. As the applause died down a bit, Lyle said:

"I heard there was a fine singer in the audience tonight. Her name is Mercedes and she's from Ohio. Is there a Mercedes in the house?"

Mercedes looked at Sam with a shocked expression.

"Did you do this?"

Sam shook his head.

"No, I had nothing to do with this. Maybe it was that bass lady."

"What do I do?"

"Raise your hand."

"Sam!"

Before Mercedes could raise her hand, the bass lady called out:

"She's over there!" And she pointed to Mercedes in the booth on the other side of the club.

A spotlight was shined on Mercedes and Lyle grinned at her.

"Hello there, Mercedes! I see you're here with my buddy Sam. So can you sing?"

Mercedes nodded, dumbfounded by the attention she was getting.

"Alrighty then, do you know I'm Not Gonna Beg?"

Finally, Mercedes spoke.

"Yes, I know the song."

"Well that song needs a woman's touch, you want to come up here and sing it with me?"

Mercedes looked at Sam, her beautiful doe eyes looked frightened.

"Sam, what should I do?"

"We'll go up together," he said, taking her hand in his, and together they walked up to the stage.

"Sam, old boy, it's good to see you and I'm happy to meet your beautiful lady friend as well."

Sam took the microphone from him.

"She's my fiancé," he said with great pride in his voice, every time he said it, he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

"Congratulations, Sam! Come on everybody, let's give a round of applause for this beautiful engagement!"

The crowd clapped and cheered. Then when they quieted down, Lyle said:

"Mercedes I want you to lead me in I'm Not Gonna Beg. My friend Diane said she heard you sing when you were only 17 years old back in Ohio, are you ready to let the world hear that voice of yours again?"

"Yes," Mercedes said, looking over at Sam, "But Sam has to sing with me."

"That's fine," we can both back you up, how's that?"

"Ok."

He played the first few notes of I'm Not Gonna Beg and what happened next floored Sam completely, and took his breath away, Mercedes began to sing:

I'm not gonna beg you for nothing
I'm not gonna beg you for your love

Straight talk, give me the straight talk
Tell me what's on your mind if it ain't love
I'm not gonna beg you for nothing
I'm not gonna beg you for your love

It was beautiful and tragic the way she poured herself into the song. Lyle played the guitar and remained silent, because he too, was blown away by her voice. Sam knew she could sing, but he never heard her perform. She didn't need any other voice but her own, so he and Lyle didn't sing a note. She clutched Sam's hand in one hand, while holding the microphone in the other; she needed him beside her and he squeezed her hand in response.

There's nothing I want from you
Nothing you can say or do
There is nothing I want for you to say anyway

When the song ended, the audience was spellbound. Never in his life had Sam ever heard a more gut-wrenching performance of that song; that was his Mercedes, baring her soul to everyone, and he heard that lonely 17-year old girl in that voice, along with the mature woman he planned to spend the rest of his remaining days with. Lyle was crying and so was Sam. Mercedes stood there shocked as the crowd jumped to their feet, giving her a standing ovation.

"Schätzchen," he said in her ear, "Never in my life have I loved you more. That was incredible."

Mercedes hugged him.

"I love you," she said.

Lyle spoke to the crowd.

"Wow, I was not expecting that! Miss Mercedes, thank you so much for sharing your voice with us, would you and Sam stick around for the closing number, I'd like to sing the old James Taylor classic, You've Got a Friend."

"Sure, I love that song," she said, as Sam gave her a side hug, "Thank you for inviting me on stage."

And together the three of them sang:

When you're down and troubled
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, nothing is going right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night

By the time they reached the chorus, Mercedes and Sam had their arms wrapped tightly around each other and together they swayed to the music:

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I'll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call, Lord, I'll be there, yeah, yeah,
you've got a friend. You've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.

Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.
Oh, yeah, yeah, you've got a friend…

When the song was over, the crowd demanded an encore, but Sam could see Mercedes had enough excitement from performing onstage, so he told everyone good night along with Lyle and ushered her backstage so she could compose herself until she was ready to go home. They slipped into the dressing room and turned on the lights and sat down on the beat-up brown leather couch that was pushed against the wall. He held her as she trembled in his arms.

"I haven't down that in over 15 years. I didn't' know I still had it in me."

"Apparently, it's still there. My God, Mercedes, you brought the house down. I would never say this to anyone else, but you out shined Lyle," he said, lowering his voice to a faint whisper.

Mercedes shook her head.

"No, I didn't, he was awesome tonight. I forgot how much I loved folk music. When I was doing gigs in high school, I had to know all kinds of music. The more diverse I was, the more jobs I got. We struggled for a while, and my singing money paid the bills and kept the lights on. When I was singing up there tonight, it brought it all back, yes I love music and I love singing, but when I was doing it as a kid, I was surviving, every ten or twenty dollar bill that was thrown my way meant we had another week of groceries. So when people said I sounded raw, that's no lie, I was raw, raw with everything life gave me," she began to cry in his arms and he held her, gently rubbing her back.

"It's alright," he said.

Somebody knocked on the door.

"Just a minute," Sam said and then asked Mercedes, "Do you want more time alone?"

"I just want to go home."

"Ok, you stay here and I'll get our coats from the booth."

"Ok."

Sam opened the door and it was Lyle, standing there holding their coats.

"I figured you could use these," he said, smiling at Sam.

"Thanks, Lyle."

"Is she ok?"

"She'll be fine. This was all a bit much for her."

"I didn't mean any harm," Lyle said, "I'm sorry if I caused trouble."

"No, don't worry, everything is fine," Sam said, and as he took their coats from him, Lyle hugged Sam.

"Good to see you kid, we should get together sometime and shoot the breeze."

"We will, I promise. You put on quite a show tonight!"

"Thanks, man. See you later," Lyle said and walked away. Sam closed the door and sat down next to Mercedes.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. I just got caught up in my feelings. It was a great experience. I'm glad we shared that together."

"I am too. You really lit up that stage."

"Thank you. Your friend Lyle is nice. We should all have dinner sometime."

"Yeah, we should."

"How did you two meet?"

"A few years ago, I used to play guitar and sing with a band. It wasn't anything major. Anyway, Lyle was our bass player's father. He used to come hear us play and I just hit it off with him. He decided to become a full time musician late in life. He used to be an art teacher but he always played music too."

"I really liked singing with him," she said.

"Me too."

They both stood up and he helped her into her coat. Instead of going out the front exit, they went through the rear exit and hurried to the car. Sam turned on the heat full blast as he drove them home, thinking about how their impromptu performance with Lyle felt right, with their arms wrapped around each other, singing and feeling the music, becoming one voice on stage. He looked over at Mercedes, who had fallen asleep, and he stroked her cheek.

"I love you, baby," he said, and he wondered what other talents he would discover about her in their future years together.

---

SOMETHING BLUE

On Monday morning, Mercedes and Tina went shopping for a wedding dress. Mercedes wanted a blue wedding dress because Sam called her his blue angel and on their first official date she wore the blue dress he bought her for Christmas, so a blue wedding dress made sense. They sat in Starbucks across the street from Miss Pedigree's Bridal Shop drinking caramel lattes and munching on blueberry muffins. They decided to get their caffeine fix before they hit all the bridal shops in town, since there weren't very many in Bethel Rock, Mercedes figured she would probably go online too.

"Why not an ivory dress?" Tina asked, biting into her muffin, "I mean it would look great against your skin tone."

Mercedes shrugged.

"I suppose it would, but I want a blue wedding dress. It means something to me and Sam."

"I get it."

"Anyway, this wedding isn't traditional. Are you and Mike able to come?"

"Yes, and we already arranged for Mike's cousin to babysit Charlotte. She doesn't do too well with road trips."

"I'm so glad you're coming; you'll love Sam's family."

"I've never been to Dusk Hollow, is it really a hick town?"

Mercedes sipped her latte.

"Sort of. But I spent most of my time at the Hummels' when Abby and I were there for Christmas."

"I really missed you when you were away in Kentucky; I can't believe Shane's parents did that."

"I missed you too. But in a weird way, I got something out of it."

"Like what?"

"Sam purposed. And Abby's issues came to light."

"Your silver lining."

"Yeah."

They finished their coffee and muffins and headed over to Miss Pedigree's. It was a quaint old shop and the locals said that the interior had not been changed since it opened in 1959 and Mercedes believed it when they walked into the shop. Pink rose wallpaper covered the walls and the carpet was pink too, and racks of wedding dresses in multiple shades of white lined the walls. In the middle of the room was a white baroque style table covered with a white lace table cloth, and a silver tea set was on the table next to a big plate of pastel pink, blue, and green frosted square-shaped petits fours, and each one was decorated with a tiny white rose on top.

The air smelled like White Shoulders perfume, reminding Mercedes of her grandmother. An elderly woman sat behind a glass counter reading the bible, her silver hair twisted into an intricate braided bun that sat atop her head, she wore an ivory lace blouse that was buttoned up to her wrinkled chin, and a flower shaped white gold diamond brooch was pinned at her throat and sparkled in the morning sunshine. Her white and gold name tag said Gladys and was pinned on the right side of her blouse.

"Good morning, ladies," Gladys said, nodding at them, "How may I help you?"

"We're looking for a blue wedding dress," Tina said, eying the petits fours on the table. Mercedes knew that Tina wanted one of those little cakes; her friend had a terrible sweet tooth.

Gladys removed her reading glasses that were connected to a gold chain and looked at them in disbelief.

"Blue, you say?"

"Yes," Mercedes said, walking over to the counter, "I want a blue wedding dress."

"Dear, I don't have anything quite like that. But you can look at the bridesmaid dresses those are usually in different colors. Is this a second marriage?"

"May I have a petit four?" Tina asked.

Gladys smiled at her.

"Why of course, that's why we have them."

Tina took two cakes. Mercedes asked where the bridesmaids' dresses were located in the shop.

"Follow me," Gladys said, and they followed her into the next room that was bit smaller than the one they were in and was filled with formal dresses of every hue.

"As you can see we have quite a few blue ones," she said, pointing to the racks of dresses "Is there a particular shade of blue that you want?"

"Royal blue," Mercedes said.

Gladys went to the left corner of the room and pulled a taffeta royal blue gown from off the rack.

"Something like this?"

Mercedes looked at the dress and fell in love with it. It was a sleeveless floor length gown with a heart neckline, full skirt, and tiny, delicate silver flower sequins decorated the bust line and waist and were scattered across the skirt, and it was gathered in the back like an old-fashioned corset. She took the dress from Gladys and held it in front of Tina, who stood there polishing off the second cake.

"What do you think?"

"It's pretty and it looks like you. Try it on."

"Ok, I will, Mercedes said

"I'll see if I have your size in the back," Gladys said and was about to leave the room but Mercedes stopped her.

"Wait, I didn't tell you my size."

Gladys waved her hand as if all that was inconsequential.

"I've been doing this for fifty years. I always know a woman's size just by looking at her," she said and left the room.

"I hope she's right about my size," Mercedes said, gazing at the gown, "This is perfect."

Then they heard the bell ringing from the front of the shop, signaling that someone had just entered. It sounded like two women.

"Hello, hello?" one of the women called out, "Gladys are you here?"

Mercedes recognized the voice, but couldn't place who it was.

"She's probably in the back," the other woman said.

"Well, we don't have all day," the first woman said, "Come on, let's go to the bridesmaid room, "I want to show you the dress you might like us to wear for your wedding."

As their footsteps came closer, Mercedes was still trying to figure out whose voice that was, it was so familiar, and then when the two women walked into the room, her heart sank when she saw that one of them was Quinn. As always she looked stylish in a long robin's egg blue wool coat and beret to match, her friend less so in a drab gray coat. Quinn's eyes grew wide when she saw Mercedes standing there next to Tina, clutching the blue gown. She smiled at them.

"Hello Mercedes, what a nice surprise," Quinn said and she turned to her companion, a tall raven-haired woman, with pale, blemished skin and small beady eyes, "This is my cousin, Amanda, I'm going to be in her wedding this spring."

"Nice to meet you," Mercedes said, "And this is my best friend Tina."

The four women exchanged pleasantries and Mercedes felt sick to her stomach. Quinn had that effect on her.

"So what brings you two here?" Quinn asked.

"I'm shopping for my wedding dress," Mercedes said, looking into Quinn's ice blue eyes, "I heard this place had a good selection."

"Your wedding dress?"

"Yes."

Tina looked Quinn up and down and Mercedes knew her friend didn't like her; she heard all about the gunshot incident in Kentucky and the run-in they had after the Christmas service at Sam's church. Tina linked arms with Mercedes and said:

"She and Sam are getting married in a couple of weeks, isn't that great? Mercedes will make a beautiful bride, don't you think, Quinn?" Tina said Quinn's name as if she tasted something bad like sour milk.

"I couldn't imagine a more beautiful bride," Quinn said, each word dripping with intended sarcasm, "Especially one marrying my ex-husband."

"I love Sam," Mercedes said, "And he loves me. This has nothing to do with you."

Quinn took a step closer to her, attempting to crowd Mercedes' personal space.

"It has everything to do with me. You'd think he'd be with you if I hadn't divorced him? He wanted me back even after my mistakes."

"It doesn't matter whom divorced whom or even why. What matters is that you're divorced. That has no bearing on my relationship with Sam. You don't matter."

Quinn's eyes grew dark.

"Let me make this clear since you're obviously slow on the uptake. You're sloppy seconds, do you understand I was his first –"

"And I will be his last. Sam and I love each other. You're not a part of the equation. You're not a part of our lives. What you think or feel about our relationship doesn't matter. I'm already clear on the situation; you're the one who is delusional."

Quinn raised her voice, her face twisted in an angry grimace.

"Who do you think you are? Saying I don't matter? You're nothing but a fat ugly cow and you -

Tina defended Mercedes.

"How dare you insult her like that, you psychotic - "

But Mercedes held up her hand, before Tina could finish her tirade, and she said to Quinn:

"I'm getting married to the man I love and who loves me in return," Mercedes said, trying not to let Quinn's cruel words get to her, "I'm not a fat cow. I'm a beautiful woman who is loved, desired and protected by a kind-hearted man. When I wake up in the morning, believe it or not, I don't think to myself, I wonder how Quinn feels about all of this, and do you know why? It's because you don't matter. You never did. You are not a part of our relationship in any shape or form. You have no power over anything."

Amanda tugged on Quinn's arm.

"We should go. You're making a fool of yourself."

Quinn pulled away from her.

"I loved him! I gave him everything and it still didn't' work! What right do you have to be his wife? You're worthy of nothing!"

Tears spilled from Quinn's pretty blue eyes and Mercedes felt nothing, so she said:

"I'm worthy of everything."

Amanda grabbed Quinn's arm again.

"You're embarrassing the hell out of me and making a complete ass of yourself," she said dragging Quinn away, but of course Quinn had to get the last word:

"He loved me first!"

"Good-bye Quinn," Mercedes said.

By then, Gladys reappeared with the dress for Mercedes to try on, she watched as a hysterical Quinn was ushered out of the shop by her cousin Amanda. She clucked her tongue.

"I do so hate drama," she turned to Mercedes, "Here, my dear, I think this one should fit. Come with me to the dressing room area."

Mercedes took the dress and she and Tina followed Gladys across the hall to the dressing room area that had a long, champagne pink baroque couch and several matching baroque chairs in the same shade. A round rosewood coffee table was positioned in front of the couch and had two small crystal bowls filled with pink foil wrapped chocolate truffles sitting on it. In the middle of the room was an antique gilded gold full-length three-panel mirror to view your reflection from all angles. Each door to the three dressing rooms was painted pink and had a picture of a bouquet of white and gold roses painted on it. Gladys unlocked the first dressing room and said:

"I'll be back to check on you. I need to make a phone call." After she left the room, Mercedes sat next to Tina on the plush couch.

"I can't believe that just happened."

"I can," Tina said, grabbing a truffle from the crystal bowl on the table, "The bitch is crazy. You handled yourself like a queen. I'm proud of you."

Mercedes hugged Tina.

"Thank you Tina, and thanks for sticking up for me."

"You're not only my best friend; you're my sister too," Tina said, "Of course I'll stick up for you, she had no right to say those ugly things about you."

When they broke apart, Mercedes stood up and went into the dressing room to try on the gown. She took off her gray yoga pants and Boston University sweatshirt and looked at herself in the mirror before trying on the dress. Quinn's fat cow remark had hurt her for a second but then she saw who she truly was as she gazed at herself in her red bra and panties and she knew she was beautiful, her body was warm and inviting, but the light that shined from within, surpassed all the physical attributes; every time she woke up and thanked God for her life; simply accepted her divine essence, or helped a child overcome another obstacle in the classroom, she felt her beauty shine, the kind that outlasted a perfect figure or face. Mercedes smiled at her reflection.

"I'm beautiful," she said.

She unzipped the dress and slipped it on. Gladys knew what she was talking about because the dress fit like a glove as if it had been tailored for her body. She opened the dressing room door and walked over to the gold three-way mirror in the middle of the room, the taffeta swishing with every step. Tina's eyes shined with admiration.

"You're stunning," she said.

Mercedes stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, admiring how the dress fit her every curve, the royal blue color was deep and rich reminding her of sapphires, and the sequins sparkled like tiny stars, her bosom was pushed up tastefully; she felt elegant and regal. She looked over her shoulder at Tina and said:

"I love it."

Tina had her phone out and was snapping pictures. Gladys walked in and the moment she saw Mercedes in the dress, she clapped her hands.

"Oh, my dear, you look exquisite!"

"I'll take it," Mercedes said to Gladys.

"You know I thought you were crazy for even thinking of wearing a blue dress, but you look so lovely, that it works for you," Gladys said, "I know your husband-to-be will be equally as pleased."

"Trust me, he will be," Tina said, rising from the couch as she took two more truffles and put them in her purse, "That man is crazy about her."

"I'll be at the front counter," Gladys said, "So when you're finished getting dressed, I can check you out."

"Thank you, Gladys," Mercedes said.

Once she was gone, Mercedes got dressed, while Tina waited for her. As she was putting her yoga pants back on, Tina said:

"What about shoes?"

"Damn, I forgot about that, I'll find something. Besides the big part is over."

"What are Lucy and Abby wearing?"

Carol said she would pick out royal blue dresses for them, so I don't have to worry about that. All I have to do is buy my dress and shoes and show up.

"Sweet deal."

"I know that's right," Mercedes said as she stepped out of the dressing room carrying the gown, "Hey, do you have anything else to do today?"

Tina shook her head.

"No, why?"

"I want to get a manicure and pedicure. I thought it would be fun if we did it together."

"Sure, I'd love to come with you."

When she was paying for the dress at the front counter, Mercedes inquired about shoes.

"You're in luck," Gladys said as she zipped the gown up in a white garment bag that had Miss Pedigree's Bridal Shop written across the front in cursive gold script, "There are shoes that come with this dress, but I have to order them. It will take about three days for them to get here."

"That's perfect, I'd like to order a pair."

Gladys showed her a picture of the shoes; they were royal blue satin pumps with silver sequins and matched the dress perfectly. Mercedes filled out an order form and Gladys said she would call or text her once they arrived. After they left the shop, they went to a nail salon and got their manicures and pedicures; then they grabbed a bite to eat at Copper Canyon, and Mercedes was in such a mellow mood that she ordered a glass of Merlot to go with her meal of sirloin steak, mashed potatoes and sautéed spinach. Tina got the grilled salmon special and the two women talked, gossiped and laughed as they ate lunch, and it all felt so good to Mercedes, that she reached over and grabbed Tina's hand, squeezing it:

"Thank you for hanging out with me today. I've been so stressed and busy lately, that I forgot what it was like to have fun.

"You're welcome and I'm having a blast too. We need to do this more often."

"Definitely."

They shared a huge slice of key lime pie for dessert, and by that time it was around 4:00 and both of them needed to get home. Mercedes dropped off Tina at her house and went home and found Sam sitting on the couch, paying bills on his laptop. He smiled as Mercedes walked through the door, carrying the dress.

"Hey, baby, I see you found a dress."

"Not just 'a dress' but 'the dress,'" she said.

"Let me see it."

"Nope, not until the wedding," she said as she walked to their bedroom and put it in the closet, with Sam following behind her.

"Not even a little peek?"

"No, I want it to be a surprise."

"Now, I'm really curious," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her, "I missed you today."

"I missed you too."

He took her by the hand, leading her out of the closet, and they sat together on the bed, where they made out for a few minutes, until Mercedes stopped the heated session to tell him about Quinn.

"I ran into Quinn and her cousin today at the bridal shop."

"I have a feeling this isn't a good story."

"It's not."

"What happened?"

"She said a lot of mean things, but I held my own. I'm ok, but I thought you should know since you may run into her and she might mention it."

"So she didn't take the news of us getting married very well, right?"

"Right. She sort of flipped out about it."

"I want to know what she said," he said, stroking her cheek, "I feel like you're holding back."

"She called me a fat cow among other things."

Sam's face grew cold.

"She what?"

"I handled her. Don't worry."

"I can't believe – "

"Believe it."

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm better than ok, I'm feeling really good right now."

Sam held her face in his hands.

"You do have a certain glow about you."

"It's called being happy."

Sam kissed her lips.

"Just so you know, when I see Quinn, I'm going to have a few choice words for her. I told you before, I won't allow anyone to disrespect you."

"I know. Thank you."

"And when you're ready to tell me everything that happened, I'm here to listen."

"Ok, Sam, I love you."

"I love you too."

They began to kiss again and soon their clothes were off and Sam was inside her stroking her so good that she never wanted him to stop, she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the stretch of his cock as he drilled into her, one day they would have to try the his and her warming lubricant they bought on Saturday, but now she enjoyed the simplicity of making love just like this, with no added extras, only their bodies joined together. Afterwards, when they calmed down from their orgasms, they held each other under the covers, as the pink and gold light from the sunset filled their bedroom. Finn and Rachel would be bringing Abby home soon, and they needed to shower and be ready before they got there, but Mercedes stayed curled up in Sam's arms for as long as she could, savoring each kiss and touch he gave her.

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END NOTES

THANK YOU FOR READING MY STORY!